


A Matter of Circumstance

by onvavoir



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onvavoir/pseuds/onvavoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people."</p>
<p>Nat hasn't exactly been straightforward about her previous run-ins with The Winter Soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Circumstance

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies if the very brief bit of Russian is mangled.

It frightens her a little when Steve shoves her against the wall. Not as much as Banner did, but a little. Enough to cut through the fabricated nonchalance and the studied relationships to the hard, cold training beneath.

_Tell him. But only what you need to._

Odessa. The Iranian physicist clutching her shoulder hard enough to leave bruises, all four tires shot out and careening towards a steep drop into dense forest. Idiot has his seatbelt on. She cuts it, pulls him out with her, the car teeters and then goes over the edge. Shots, stones popping like popcorn. 

A click. The semiautomatic is out of ammo. Small mercies. It won’t be the only gun, but two seconds to reach for another gives her two seconds to think.

There are two clips in her belt, plus three rounds left in the gun. Use them wisely. She covers her scientist, who’s hunched down behind her. He might be muttering something, his family’s names. It barely registers in the deafening quiet between volleys.

He drops onto the road from above, hard, knees bent. A painful landing. It doesn’t seem to register, and when she sees his face she knows why. Of course they sent him. Of course. His hair longer than the last time she saw him, but only just.

His eyes are blank, focused on his target and the obstacle in front of it. Not a shred of recognition, and as much as she knew, as much as she prepared herself for it, it hurts just as much as it has every other time.

_He doesn’t know you. You’re nothing to him._

Rapid fire, one two three. Does he have fucking Kevlar knee pads? Reload, shield the target. He walks towards them, in no hurry. They have nowhere to go. Her only hope is to get into close quarters and aim for something vital.

_Can you do that? Will you, if the time comes?_

He fires again, and the universe punches her in the gut. Behind her, Behzadi stops muttering. She doesn’t need to look down to know she’s been shot, but the blood on the rocks, it’s not just hers. The crouch becomes a heap. A neat head shot, right through her. It’s over. She’s failed.

_Take him out. If you do nothing else, do that._

She fires again, but her aim is wild. The gun flies from her hand in an explosion of pain.

“[будь ты проклят](https://www.google.com/search?q=%D0%B1%D1%83%D0%B4%D1%8C+%D1%82%D1%8B+%D0%BF%D1%80%D0%BE%D0%BA%D0%BB%D1%8F%D1%82&oq=%D0%B1%D1%83%D0%B4%D1%8C+%D1%82%D1%8B+%D0%BF%D1%80%D0%BE%D0%BA%D0%BB%D1%8F%D1%82&aqs=chrome..69i57j0l5.249j0j7&client=ubuntu-browser&sourceid=chrome&es_sm=122&ie=UTF-8#q=god+damn+you+in+russian), [Молчан](http://www.ancestry.com/name-origin?surname=molchan)!”

He stops. His eyes flick down to the corpse behind her and back up. She can imagine what’s left of his mind processing, a stripped-down and prototypical precursor to her own training.  _Target eliminated. Hostile agent neutralised. Objective complete._

He turns on his heel and walks away, a walk she would know anywhere, the uneven swagger of someone with metal instead of flesh. It pains her some place deeper than the bullet through her gut.

. . .

Back to base. A job well done, his handlers tell him, even if Romanova escaped. She is a formidable agent. 

He lies back to be strapped in. Cold. Always cold. The lid closes, and his lips move. His handlers don’t seem to notice, or perhaps they don’t think it remarkable.

_But I knew her._


End file.
